


not because of victories

by thimble



Series: SASO 2017 [22]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-09 03:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12267600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thimble/pseuds/thimble
Summary: In which Himuro goes to Rakuzan.





	not because of victories

**Author's Note:**

> remixed for [this](https://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/21931.html?thread=11414699#cmt11414699) fill and written for [this](https://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/25713.html?thread=16153713#cmt16153713) prompt.

_**in which they lose** _

 

The locker room is silent when Himuro enters it. Silent, and empty, too, apart from the one person he's not sure he can face after the results of that match. He'd just returned from his talk with Alex—where apologies and forgiveness had flowed in equal measure—though his heart is not quite done wrangling with reason about having similar talk with Taiga. Speaking with Akashi seems herculean at this point, when their winning streak has run dry and all their mistakes were brought to light.   
  
There's an awards ceremony coming up, and a planned celebration party to cancel, all of which Himuro isn't quite ready to face. Never mind their captain, who had been leading them all this time, through countless triumphs and a most significant defeat. Akashi is sitting on a bench with his back to the entrance, head bowed to something on his lap.  
  
"It's quiet in here," says Himuro as he steps inside, for lack of anything more substantial to say. Akashi lifts his head at the sound, though he doesn't glance over his shoulder just yet.   
  
"Noise is reserved for the victors," he says, and though the sentence should be bitter, given the outcome, it doesn't sound like it from his lips.   
  
"But we never were loud champions, were we?" says Himuro, because even if he's only been here for half a year, and even if the team initially didn't have place for him, the image he has of himself in his mind is streaked in white and sky blue.   
  
"I thought it foolish to dwell on a single victory when there was more to be had in the future."   
  
"Thought?"  
  
More than a simple lack of bitterness, amusement colors Akashi's voice. "I'm certain you're aware of why I may have reconsidered my point of view." It leaves as quickly as it comes, when Akashi finally looks up, and looks right at Himuro, his expression rueful, and not something Himuro would've pegged for him to have ever worn. "I haven't been fair to you, Himuro."  
  
In his palm is the ring and chain Himuro hasn't seen in so long, pushed to the back of his mind in pursuit of something better. Akashi had done him a favor by taking it away, the way he's doing him a favor now, too, by giving it back.   
  
"You have someone you want to make amends with, don't you?" continues Akashi, his smile soft with hope. Himuro hasn't forgotten the events of the match, hasn't forgotten the blue eyes that had sought out Akashi's across the court, pleading for understanding (the same way Taiga's had pleaded with his own.)  
  
Himuro closes his fingers around the necklace Akashi placed on his palm, its weight familiar, and no longer unwelcome.   
  
"Don't think I haven't noticed, captain," he says, finding it himself to smile back. "I think the same goes for you."

 

* * *

 

**_in which they win_ **

 

The buzzer sounds, but the smack of the ball as it hits the ground and bounces to the sidelines seems louder, even amidst the roar of the crowd. It might be because it's the direct aftermath of that last blocked shot, the thunder after the lightning; it might be because it had been Seirin's final chance at redemption, at winning back their dignity if they cannot win the match. But, as Tatsuya has just learned quite recently, emperors are nothing if but absolute. Victory is not victory at all unless it is unanimous, unless it is unquestioned, unless it is the undeniable truth.   
  
Seirin lost the game long before the countdown ended, and it hadn't just been a matter of how many points they were behind, or how wide the margin between their scoreboard and Rakuzan's was. Tatsuya's not sure what the the finishing blow was, because there are a number of likely suspects. It might have been the moment their shadow shone too bright; it might have been the moment their light was doused by his own traitorous heart. Tatsuya isn't proud to have been Taiga's downfall, but it would be a lie to say he didn't foresee this. After all, Akashi did.  
  
He sees Taiga across the court now, head bowed and fists clenched at his sides, but he isn't crying. That much, Tatsuya knows, even from afar. It takes far more than a loss in basketball to make Taiga truly break, though maybe the loss of a brother might do the trick.   
  
When they line up for the cursory handshakes, Taiga refuses to look at him, so Tatsuya isn't able to see his eyes anyway.  
  
"You know what this means, don't you, Taiga?"  
  
"Yeah." His voice is soft, resigned, and it stirs something old and tender inside Tatsuya. Taiga has always been an open wound, and it seems to go both ways. But before he can say anything else in response, he sees another flash of red in his peripheral, and he's turning away from Taiga instinctively to follow it.  
  
He might have heard Taiga say his name as he leaves, but his gaze is already fixed on Akashi.   
  
"Did I take you away from something important, Tatsuya?" asks Akashi, voice deceptively casual. Tatsuya thinks back to Taiga's expression, to a pair of defeated blue eyes looking up helplessly as Akashi brought the one they belonged to to his knees, to everything that they've destroyed to get here. He thinks, too, of what it was like on the other side of that mythical door, previously closed to him until Akashi gave them a taste of being something  _more_.   
  
His answer, in the face of all that, is laughably easy to say.  
  
"Not at all."


End file.
